


Feels Like Home

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pre-Slash, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blinking in surprise at the familiar shape, Stiles steps into the room. Scott hisses a warning at him but Stiles has a feeling, a feeling that makes his heart race with a nervous anticipation. It can’t be. It really can’t. But it would be so like him to pull a stunt like this. It’s in line with the man’s strange tendency to make dramatic entrances (and exits).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Home

The second that Stiles makes out the large shadow rising out of the corner of Scott’s dark room, the teenager almost sighs with relief. Which immediately makes him want to groan and smack his own forehead because how was this his life?  
  


At what point,  **exactly** , did he grow  _so_  used to his every day life having some degree of crazy in it that when he has a fairly normal and quiet day, he’s wary? All damned day Stiles has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the eye of the storm to pass and drop a house on their collective heads. He feels oddly justified in his paranoia now that he’s seen this figure lurking in Scott’s dark room. In a ‘Aha! I  _knew_ something bad was going to happen today!’ way.

 

Like he’s said,  _his life_.  
  


Scott notices the shadow the same time that he does, tensing in the doorway. Stiles slips his hand into his jeans and grabs the small spray can there. After several close encounters, ones that Stiles doesn’t want to think about, and a lot of help from Lydia and Allison, the group had made a self defense spray that was a potent mixture of pepper spray, wolfsbane and just a touch of mountain ash (or as Stiles jokes 'a pinch of magic fairy dust’). He's  _really_ glad that he’s got the spray on hand right now because that’s one large figure that’s got some seriously broad shoulders and girth that imply a lot of muscl…  
  


Wait.  
  


Blinking in surprise at the familiar shape, Stiles steps into the room. Scott hisses a warning at him but Stiles has a feeling, a feeling that makes his heart race with a nervous anticipation. It can’t be. It really can’t. But it would be so like him to pull a stunt like this. It’s in line with the man’s strange tendency to make dramatic entrances (and exits).  
  


Stiles flips the light on, blinking quickly as his eyes adjust to the sudden change. Derek however, doesn’t do anything beside stand in place and stare at the pair with a tiny half smile on his face.  _'I knew it! I knew it!'_ His brain yells in delight while his heart thumps ’ _He’s back. He came back. He’s back.’_  The combination of the two train of thoughts make Stiles grin like a maniac and say, “This is private property you know. You’re trespassing.”  
  


There’s a moment of silence before they all crack. Scott laughs quick and loud, quickly covering his mouth to muffle the rest of his chuckles while Derek ducks his head and grins down at the mess on the floor, shaking his head lightly. Stiles? Stiles feels like his face is going to break because of how  _wide_ and  _happy_ his grin is.   
  


He steps forward - one, two, three - and grabs Derek in the best and most welcoming brohug that he can give. Stiles keeps his grip tight on Derek’s hand, squeezing it harder as he pats the man’s back and grins into the werewolf’s familiar leather jacket.  
  


There’s a whole wealth of emotions bubbling inside of Stiles, wanting to burst out. In fact, Stiles feels a lot like a shaken bottle of champagne that’s just been opened. He wonders if Derek can tell how happy and relieved he is to see the older man and hopes that he can.   
  


And in case he can’t.  
  


Stiles pulls back, hand still clasped around Derek’s wrist and second hand squeezing a broad shoulder. “Long time no see, Grumpy. Can’t say I missed your skulking and creeping.”  
  


The look he gets for that is so heart breakingly familiar that Stiles wants to just. Bounce around for a few minutes to get all this energy out of him.  _God_ , he’s missed that fond, mildly irritated look. And those eyebrows. No one’s eyebrows were  _half_ as expressive as Derek’s.  
  


“Stiles.” Scott chides with a grin, bumping his friend out of the way so that he can greet Derek with a brohug too.  
  


Stiles waits until they pull apart before throwing them a mock innocent look, “What?”  
  


As he shakes his head at Stiles’ antics, Scott pats Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to him. He missed you plenty.”  
  


While Stiles splutters and vehemently denies the 'completely untrue!’ accusation, Derek smiles amusedly in a way that makes the teenagers heart go ’ _Whoa. Nope nope nope. That’s not fair! I call foul!_ ’. “Did he?” Oh jeez, now  _that's_ not fair. Derek sounds so relaxed and calm and it’s doing terrible,  _terrible_ things to Stiles’ knees. Like turning them into jelly.  
  


“Oh, he did.” Scott replies gleefully, ignoring the pillow that Stiles grabs from the bed and thwacks on the teenage werewolf’s head.   
  


Glaring at his best friend, Stiles declares, “Like you didn’t miss him too!” He turns towards Derek while pointing towards Scott. “You shoulda heard him the first week! He wouldn’t shut up abo-ack!” The rest of his sentence dies an unimpressive death as Scott jumps on him and covers his mouth.   
  


Windmilling, Stiles flounders and winds up falling face first on the bed. He mumble-curses against Scott’s palm while Derek dryly comments, “Nice to see you both haven’t changed.”


End file.
